


The Soul You Used to Be

by goodgreycious



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, Comfort (if you squint), Darklina - Freeform, Drabble, F/M, Feels, Honestly I have no idea where this came from, Mild Spoilers for Ruin and Rising, Mild editing only we die like men, Oh look at that I made myself cry, PTSD, Post-Canon, We all know who "he" is okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodgreycious/pseuds/goodgreycious
Summary: Just because she can't see him anymore doesn't mean she can't *see* him...
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/ Alina Starkov (background), The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	The Soul You Used to Be

**Author's Note:**

> A post canon drabble that slapped me across the face and reminded me I didn't exactly ::vibe:: with the end of Ruin and Rising and I needed to COPE
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine, anything you don't is all me.

The first time it happens, Alina chalks it up to the nightmare that had just jolted her awake. It's only been a handful of months since her and Mal settled back into _Keramzin_. He’s sound asleep next to her, knocked out after a long day of the never ending restoration to turn their old home into their new one. She's looking at him so fondly, she almost, _almost_ doesn't notice it. But, they had left the window open. And the breeze had rustled the curtain.

And he’s just... there. She freezes. He inclines his head, a familiar smirk at his lips. She blinks and he’s gone.

The first thing she notices is that it doesn’t feel like it used to.

~*~*~

It’s so random that she really doesn’t pay any mind to it. Really, she doesn't. He never says anything anyway. Just looks at her. Studying her. Watching what she does and how she does it. She doesn’t know what she’d say anyway. And she resolutely does not mention it to Mal. He’s been through enough. _They’ve_ been through enough. She’s put him through enough that he doesn’t need this from her.

He speaks to her for the first time on her birthday.

She’s stolen away to the garden she had set up our back. Nikolai had gotten to the 'gathering' first, giving her a look as she left to be alone. _I’m fine_ , she mouthed with a smile. He definitely didn’t believe her, but it’s her birthday, so. She turns her face toward the sun, letting the light dance across her body, willing it to feel as natural as it once did. She comes to the end of it, staring out into the valley beyond and she feels him. At her back. In her space. The closest he’s ever been, the words a soft breath in her ear.

_**Happy birthday,**_ a shiver worms up her spine, _ **my Alina.**_ She whips around and he’s not there. It's closer, but still not how it used to feel.

~*~*~

He talks all the time now. Not spouting prose or poetry, or monologuing, or anything like that. He had been a man of few words when he was alive. He didn’t need anything more than what he gave to get his point across.

He tells her she looks tired. Not in a bad way, he just notices the dip to her shoulders and the bags under her eyes. He reminds her to do certain things she finds herself forgetting. On hard days, he gets mean. Tells her she’s not special anymore, that she’s nothing without her powers, without _him_. She definitely doesn’t notice it’s the days Mal looks at her with a little more love or holds her a little tighter for no reason. He still doesn’t know she sees him.

Yet, there are good days. Even if the days he’s sweet to her are few and far between. He'll stand closer, run his fingers up her arm or spine, whisper in her ear, kiss her temple. He’ll say that she doesn’t have to be alone anymore. That there’s no one else. _**There never was, Alina.**_ **_There never could be._** Mal's gone on those days, hunting or trading in town. She refuses to acknowledge she looks forward to those days.

~*~*~

And still, years pass. She doesn’t see him as often as she used to. She still does, but it’s manageable. She’s put it behind her. _She has._

But it’s the anniversary. The day the Fold fell, five years ago. She didn’t tell Mal about the little pile of stones under the tree they planted either (to replace the old one). She goes to see it more often than she should.

Mal was making breakfast when she left to go see it. She wanders in patches of sunlight when she thinks no one’s watching, eyes closed, face turned towards the warmth. Makes to lay down in the early morning sun that hadn’t made it shady under the tree yet. The sun pours over her. Sometimes, when she’s really alone, she lets it play through her fingers. Her chest aches at the patches of sunlight on her skin. It's still not natural like it used to be, but maybe she’s okay with it. Maybe she can revel in it. She lets her fingertips dance in the grass and the sun.

And he comes. Laying with her, tangled with her.

She doesn’t look at him, but she doesn’t flinch when his voice comes from behind her. She doesn't need to anymore.

He whispers, the timbre a blanket over her soul, _**Are you happy, solnushka?** _And she hates that she can’t lie to him.

_**Are you happy, my Alina?**_ The tear on her cheek is her tell and her answer. And it catches the sunlight like a diamond. She blinks and he’s gone, but the ache is worse.

_This._ This is how it used to feel.

Like everything and nothing all at once.

Exhilarating and exhausting. It’s them.

_It’s them._

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, blame my wife/bestfriend for the headcanon that led to this. AND telling me the Russian Google translation for "sunshine" because that made things so much better. Go yell at her. 
> 
> And check out her out at Lightning_Strikes_Twice because she's INSANELY talented (and writes Darklina better than I could ever hope to). The latter half of this drabble would, quite literally, not exist without her.
> 
> And yell at Leigh for giving us and ending that lent itself to this. 
> 
> Comments/kudos and constructive criticism are always appreciated. Or if you just want to yell about anything and everything, come see me at goodgreycious.tumblr.com!
> 
> Much love y'all!


End file.
